“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood

and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth;

then took the other, just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim,

because it was grassy and wanted wear; though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same,

and both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence:

two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

and that has made all the difference.”

Robert Frost

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